


Time Passes Differently

by esaaalbitas



Category: Bahamut Lagoon, Final Fantasy IV
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:11:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esaaalbitas/pseuds/esaaalbitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the time Rydia spent in the Land of the Summomers, she came across an unusual being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Passes Differently

**Author's Note:**

> Just a head's up, major spoiler if you haven't played Bahamut Lagoon (a sort of vague one, I suppose, but I want to be on the safe side).

The last thing she remembered was the crash of waves, the plunge into the blue and fear of drowning... but what will always stay with her would be the scales of Leviathan. They were iridescent and mutely emotive, reflecting the eerie calm that settled over her small frame. 

In cliched obligation little Rydia couldn't help but think, “Did I die? Did I drown?” She can't recall if her mother said anything about death... as an accident. She knew of the link between summoner and entity-- if the entity died, so did their caller. She learned a little of battles from traveling with her companions, and in spite of them not talking of the subject because she was still just a child. 

Her eyes opened to dim light and warmth. A child alone, it felt like. There was no sign of water, nor a boat, or anyone else she recognized.

Panic almost settled in. Almost; she will not cry. Her mother divulged little about death, but she knew about this place. Rydia didn't need to see any more. She was safe. 

The scales of Leviathan lulled her back to rest.

 

The next time she opened her eyes there was a woman. She was blonde and draped in green and brown and unfamiliar cuts of the cloth. There was a staff in her hand, as well: a heavy wood, with a bright green gem at the top.

Rydia blinked in surprise. Humans, here? But no, she must be an Eidolon. There were still beings she didn't know of yet. Summons with no name. She must be one of them.

Curious, she tried for a closer look. But the mysterious figure had already faded away.

 

As any summoner knows, time passes differently here. The Eidolon that spirited her from the ship kept a close eye on her as she grew, teaching her the ways of her birthright along with the others. For she was the last, and it was something to be taken more seriously than usual.

She worried over her companions. Any worries about their fate were met with terse, but gentle responses. Such as the way of the Eidolon.

"And, who is that?" she asked Leviathan one day, referring to the woman she can only seem to catch at the corner of her eye.

"Dragnar. She can speak with us, and dwells with us." But he'd never answer her other question: "Where did she come from?"

Asura was more forthcoming in comparison. "It is rude to ask others of another's origin." A rule a young and curious child can sometimes forget!

But as she grew, the mystery only gained more focus, until one day Rydia grew brave enough to reach out with her hand. It was warm, unlike that of the others: the heat there to greet her fingertips and was not just an undercurrent.

“Where did you come from?”

She only smiled. Rydia was so overjoyed that she received any response at all, so the smile was all the answer she needed for a while. And she didn't know it then, but she began to feel a little less alone.

 

It had been five years. Out in the world where time existed, she wouldn't have aged much. But there, she snuck upon age thirteen.

She stood before Asura, Leviathan, and Dragnar, and the other entities. Their words washed over her, soothingly, but firm. The glow of her childhood spells quivered in her palms, echoing the trembles the girl failed to stop. Rydia didn't want to let go, not just yet. Time passes much more quickly in this land; all the more reason for her to do so. But the day Rydia discarded her basic white magics still felt too soon.

The feeling was something she would never forget, for it was so different from summoning. It couldn't even be compared to casting a spell. It was releasing: Her fingers spread out, and the light flowed upward and out, to disperse along the world.

Furthermore, Rydia would always remember the gentle hand on her shoulder, steadying her stumble and slump. Why was she so tired? Was it the loneliness, that now rushed to fill the void the white magic left? Unconsciously her fingers knitted with Dragnar's, searching for an anchor in the emotional storm. 

It began in a whimper, then grew, and grew, and for the first and last time in this land, Rydia cried her heart out. While the Eidolons eventually drifted away the woman never left her side.

Black magic was easy compared to the complicated subtleties of summoning, and she learned quick.

 

Eventually, the questions resurfaced. Rydia grew familiar with Dragnar enough to ask her directly:

"Why can't I call you?"

Those were the words that replaced a proper greeting. Every Eidolon gave a bit of their knowledge to the girl. Apparently it was Dragnar's turn. And Rydia, in all her youth, wasn't immune to impatience. What could this one teach her what all the others haven't?

She found out soon enough.

Like the others, she expected Dragnar to feed her images, of memories and thoughts. Rydia watched her hand as the woman gently pressed hot fingertips on her forehead.

But it was not a memory: the rage that pounded into her temples, a screaming ferocity of a livid dragon. A voice of terror and threatening holy retribution against those that tricked him. He was a prisoner inside the mind of a mere woman.

The rage named Alexander.

It was all she could do to not stagger back, even when her body became overcome with convulsions. Rydia couldn't look into her burning eyes, so she settled for the bright green gem at her throat-- until that burned, as well. Her vision grew dim as the rage built, and built, and threatened to overwhelm-- only to be forced back with unbelievable power.

And at last, the hand withdrew. Rydia could only whimper out what she thought was a name: "Dragnar. You are a summoner too, like me."

And for the first time, the entity spoke.

"That is but a title. I was Yoyo, Empress of Kahna, the Dragnar: a summoner of dragons in another world. I spoke with them, now I keep only one in captivity for all time, and I need no name and no use for titles.” 

Rydia slumped, and was caught carefully in the many arms of Asura.

“I am a cautionary tale-- but of what, exactly, is up to you.”

 

And with her, the lessons ended. There was only waiting.

Rydia subjected her to endless queries, instead. They fell from her mouth in a stream and while others would silence her with a glare, the Dragnar made no move to. After her announcement of sorts, she seemed more capable of responding. It was as if something was unlocked.

“Are you here all the time?” 

“Some times. Time is not much for someone like me.”

“Time is different here. Why don't you age, like I do?”

"I can't. I died. Or, something like that."

“How did you 'die'?”

"Valiantly, in battle. I was protecting my people."

“How did you get here?”

"You can say the dragons pitied me."

“Were you the last summoner too?” 

"I may as well have been. There were no children after me. It is safer that way. But the worlds are mysterious."

“You speak of dragons; do you know of Bahamut?” 

"That I do. But not well. Byuu... he remained with him. Roamed with him across the sky. So I do not know him as well."

“Who is Byuu? Was he a summoner too?” 

"No, he was just a soldier.” 

Yoyo seemed to stare off into the distance, toward the horizon-that-wasn't, and Rydia was afraid she wouldn't answer. But one eventually came, from what felt like from far, far away:

“I miss the iridescent castle of the sky." 

But she would not be prodded further. The-entity-that-was-once-Yoyo made a request: “Tell me about yourself. Your friends.” Rydia had did so countless times already, but the Dragnar delighted in her memories. 

Her body told her that four more years have passed. 

 

Asura simply decreed she return to the world- no fanfare, no celebration that the waiting was finally over. Although Rydia could move freely between, it was a bittersweet declaration: she missed her friends dearly, and she will treasure her time with the Eidolons. 

Rydia said her goodbyes and gratitude in a way only summoners and Eidolons could; it is a thing that cannot be written in any language. In parallel with her teachings she left the Dragnar for last, though the entity wasn't easy to find. She was far off in the land with her feet on the equivalent of the world's horizon.

“Dragnar... Yoyo. I wanted to thank you.”

Yoyo only pointed.

There was an image in the air, upon the haze. She squinted, then stepped closer-- and then she could see them: her friends. It had only been months, or even just weeks since Rydia was swept into the sea.

"Cecil!" She cried out to him. He was recognizable even in his new armor. "Rosa!" The kind woman she looked up to. “Oh! Where are the others? Did anything happen to them?” 

They couldn't hear her, for it was only a vision. 

The words came tumbling out before she could stop them, "I have to go! But come with me. We can find your castle, too!" Her eyes briefly flickered to the hazy display; they were losing. 

"No," Yoyo shook her head and Rydia turned. "It was not my castle and even if it was, it wouldn't exist there." 

Rydia held her tongue, the question dying in her mouth: "May I call you, then?" Not because it'd be out of place; some don't mind the asking, as long as you were respectful. But she knew whatever strength Yoyo had, it was best directed elsewhere. 

"These friends-- go help them. They are more important than a ghost's daydreams. Go! Be safe. Be strong. Maybe we'll meet again." Yoyo stepped up and gently kissed her forehead, closing off the opportunity for any more words.

So Rydia bid farewell, “and thank you. So much.”

That land... all we really need to know is that it is beyond the edge of things. To what exactly those “things” are... it could be time itself. Or space. Or both. Or something we cannot comprehend altogether. Even when Rydia grows gray in the hair, she could never tell us with certainty anything more than the door in the Underworld. 

The vision blurred, and was gone altogether; in its place was the way. Rydia went through to aid her friends.


End file.
